Criminal
by Tori Moxley
Summary: He wasn't a criminal in that sense, but they treated him like one. She supposed it had something to do with his ripped jeans and leather jacket. Or maybe it was the fact that he put his body through absolute hell to earn a living. He definitely wasn't getting her parent's seal of approval, but that didn't seem to bother him, and surprisingly, it didn't bother her either. Dean/OC AU
1. Chapter 1

**I told myself that I shouldn't write another story until I finish the ones I already started, but my heart wanted this one published right away so… here it is! This story starts out in Dean's indie days, so he will be referred to as Jon Moxley. I'm not very familiar with indie wrestling, or with Jon's career before WWE, so this story has no particular timeline before then. Most of the story is sort of AU.**

* * *

The twelve hour drive from Atlanta to Philadelphia was made with the windows rolled up and the air conditioning on full blast. Her mother claimed it was scorching outside, but Elle knew better than that. Her older sister was attending medical school in Florida to become a doctor; she knew the difference between a heat wave and a hot flash.

"Belle, turned that God awful music down!" Her mother snapped, turning around in the passenger seat of the family car, a brand new Cadillac Escalade with customized leather interior and a pair of her younger brother's baby shoes dangling from the rear view mirror.

"Elisabelle!" Her mother said again when she didn't comply to her demands fast enough. Elle turned off her barely audible iPhone, completely silencing the sound of The Cab in her ears. Her full name was Elisabelle Alexandria Anders, more commonly known to her family as Belle, except when she was being yelled at. She preferred the nickname Elle, but she had nobody in her life that called her that. Elle and the rest of her family were all born and raised in Georgia; ever since she was a little girl, she had planned her life entirely in the peach state. With her part-time job, she was trying to save money to put herself through college. She did this because she knew there was absolutely no way her parents were going to.

Elle had two older siblings and one younger sibling, all of whom her parents deemed more successful than her. Elle's oldest brother was a lawyer in California, dealing mostly with family law; divorces, child custody cases and the like. Her sister was study medicine and her younger brother, although still in his senior year of high school, he was on every sports team, a part of every after school activity or club that he could. Elle passed all her classes with flying colors when she was in high school, and she was also a part of an after school activity, but it wasn't something her parents approved of.

Music had been her passion since she was a little girl, she would sing all the time, and she even received a toy guitar from her grandfather when she was five years old. Her parents were fine with it at first; they thought it was just a phase that she would grow out of. This week she's a musician, maybe next week she'll be an astronaut. But a week past and Elle still claimed she was going to be a musician one day. When Elle began bringing home brochures for college music programs, her parents quickly announced their disapproval for her career choice and told her that if she wanted to go to college for music, she would have to pay for it by herself.

That was the day that Elle stopped receiving an allowance. Her parents still bought her the necessities of life, hair care products, clothing, make-up and so forth, but she never had money to go out with friends or to save up money for college. Her parents thought that if she didn't have any spending money, she would give up on music school. But as soon as she graduated high school, Elle got a job at a music store in downtown Atlanta. Her parents saw her father's promotion as a blessing, and not for the most obvious reason. Elle's father worked for a national company that made and sold furniture, he was recently promoted to the Pennsylvania state manager, mostly operating out of the Philadelphia store.

They convinced Elle to move with them by reminding her just how close New York was to Philadelphia, how many performing arts schools there were. Aside from Los Angeles, New York was a place to get noticed. She was twenty two years old, plenty legal. She didn't have to move with her parents and her younger brother, and, at the moment, she was regretting the decision badly.

The Anders Family reached Philadelphia at around twelve o'clock at night. Their new home was nice. Two stories high with a wrought iron fence and gate with a security system. It was in what looked like a nice neighborhood with similar houses and expensive cars. Elle immediately felt out of place, knowing already that she and her dream car, a burnt orange Jeep Wrangler, would not be accepted into this community.

Her father pulled the Escalade up to the gate and punched in the four digit code into the security system. When the gates swung open, he pulled up to the two car garage and parked inside. No words were spoken between the four of them as her father cut the engine and he, her mother and her brother all got out of the car. Elle quickly copied their actions. All of the luggage was retrieved from the back of the luxury SUV and her father led them all into the house.

"Go upstairs to your bedrooms, your names are on the doors. I want everyone to go to bed. The movers will be here early tomorrow morning to bring the rest of our furniture, so I want everyone up by seven thirty, shower and dress and be down here by eight." Her mother and father walked up the staircase without another word, her brother followed behind them. Elle glanced around at her surroundings before going up the stairs, too.

There were five doors in the hallway; the first three were unmarked, the two at the end of the hallway were her parent's room and her brother's room. Too tired to ask her parents where her bedroom was, Elle began opening doors at random, finding a bathroom, a home office and a set of stairs that led to her bedroom in the attic. There was no real furniture besides a dark wood wardrobe and a pink moon chair. She stared at the room in disbelief. Where was she supposed to sleep? The moon chair was comfortable to sit in for an hour or so, but trying to sleep seven hours until morning? She didn't have much of a choice.

With a small sigh, Elle dropped her suitcase by the door, plopped herself down into the moon chair and fell into an awkward and uncomfortable sleep. Morning came quickly but not as quickly as Elle would have liked, as she stood up from the moon chair. Every muscle in her body seemed to be aching and sore. She knew her father said to be downstairs by eight, but he didn't even follow his own advice, so why should she?

There were two doors in Elle's bedroom; one led to a decently sized closet, the other was a bathroom. It was very basic, with a toilet, a sink and a claw-foot bathtub with a moveable shower head. Like a zombie, Elle walked into the bathroom, stripping out of her skinny jeans and T-shirt as she stepped into the bathtub, not even shutting the door behind her. She turned the water on as hot as it could go, a moan of delight passing her lips as the hot water began relaxing her sore, aching muscles almost instantly. Elle spent nearly a half hour in the bathtub before her body felt relaxed and she realized that she still hadn't cleaned herself. All of her toiletries were still in her suitcase, so she ran out of the bathtub to get them, slipping on the tiled floor. She reached her suitcase, immediately finding her body wash and hair products, along with some clothes before she scurried back to the bathroom. This time, she shut the door.

It took fifteen minutes to clean herself, Elle knew that she was already late, so she didn't bother to hurry. She toweled off most of the water and knotted the towel underneath her arms, taking the time to spritz her hair with leave-in conditioner and dress herself in the jean shorts and tank top she brought into the bathroom with her. The site of her bedroom stopped her in her tracks when she opened the door. The moon chair was moved over by the window to accommodate the plush looking queen sized bed. The dark wood wardrobe was pushed against the wall near the closet and matching furniture had been brought in, including a dresser, to bedside tables, a small bookshelf and a computer desk. All of her possessions were in plastic bins labeled with "Elisabelle's room" with duct tape and a black Sharpie. Somebody had moved all of her things into her bedroom while she was in the shower and she had no idea.

Not thinking anything of it, aside from the fact that she wouldn't be sleeping in that moon chair again tonight, Elle pulled on a pair of mismatch socks out of one of the bins and put them on and went downstairs. From the big bay windows in the living room, a room filled with red walls, white leather couches and a lot of artwork, Elle saw a moving truck from her father's furniture company leaving their driveway.

"I told you to be down here at eight!" Her father barked in lieu of a morning greeting, gesturing at the clock on the cable box, which read nine fifteen. Elle just shrugged her shoulders and followed her brother into the kitchen for breakfast.

* * *

A low groan filled the small bedroom as the young man who was previously sleeping woke up. The curtains on the windows were pulled shut, blocking the sunlight and noises from the outside world, but, unfortunately, it didn't block out the heavy pounding coming from the bedroom door.

"Jon! Get your ass up or we'll be late for work!" Another groan left Jon's lips. Work. To him, work happened on Friday, Saturday and the occasional Sunday night in downtown Philadelphia. Jon was a professional wrestler in the independent promotion Combat Zone Wrestling, better known as CZW. The job that Jon's friend Sami was referring to was something that both of them did to pay the rent in their tiny, one bedroom apartment. Wrestling, especially in the independent circuit, did not pay enough to live on; The more you invested in the sport, the more money you needed to spend on ring gear, protein and supplements.

Jon laid in his bed for another five minutes before he finally got out of bed, pulling up his sagging boxers as he made his way to the bathroom to wash the dried blood and plasma off his skin from the match he had last night. By the time he showered and changed into his work clothes, a pair of ripped jeans, showing off the hard muscles of his thighs, a soft cotton white tank top and a pair of steel toed boots, Sami was already dressed and waiting in the tiny kitchen with two travel mugs filled with cheap instant coffee.

"Such a good housewife." Jon joked, effectively dodging Sami's punch and grabbed one of the travel mugs off the counter. He took a sip and sighed; It was black and strong, just the way he liked it, unlike Sami, who drank cream and sugar with a shot of coffee. After making sure that the doors and windows were locked up tight, Jon and Sami hopped into Jon's late sixties model black Chevy Impala and began the drive to work. For the past month or so, Jon and Sami had been working at a furniture store as movers. It was a surprisingly bearable job; they moved furniture every day, building their strength for wrestling on the weekends, and the decent pay allowed them to keep their cheap little apartment while still managing to get food on their table.

"So…" Sami began quietly, taking a sip of his coffee, "About that party…" Upon hearing the word 'party', Jon sighed heavily in annoyance. It wasn't as though Jon hated partying, after all, a small seedy bar downtown did have his drink order on hand, but this party was a company _soiree_ , being held at the private estate of his new boss. Just the fact that his boss called it a _soiree_ made Jon want to avoid it all together.

"I told you no." Jon told Sami, pulling his car into the parking lot of their workplace.

"But Mox!" Sami whined, "There's going to be free booze!" That word seemed to do it for Jon. After the weekend he had, being beaten with kendo sticks and bludgeoned with steel chairs, Jon felt like he could use a drink. Or five. Both boys exited the car and walked through the employee entrance at the back of the building. The overly flirtatious secretary handed them a list of customers they would be delivering to. The secretary was pretty, which was why Jon slept with her three weeks ago, but, apparently, she didn't understand the term casual sex.

"Look at who's name is first." Sami said, handing the list to Jon. Not surprisingly, their boss' house was the first. They both knew that their boss and his family were moving into their new house yesterday, but he thought they would at least have some furniture. Not that they could judge, of course; Jon's bed consisted of a mattress on the floor and Sami didn't even have a room, he slept on the couch in the living room.

"We can't be delivering all their furniture." Sami observed, glancing down at the list in his hands.

"No, you're just delivering and setting up his daughter's room." The secretary explained. Apparently the other movers had been moving furniture in since last week and the daughter's room was the only room left. All the furniture had already been loaded into the back of the moving truck, thanks to the lower grunts who worked weekends and graveyard shifts. Jon and Sami got into their respective moving truck and programmed the address into the GPS. It was almost an hour away; The company had a strict delivery charge for anyone who lived over half an hour away, but Jon supposed that rule was ignored if you were the state manager; he doubted they even paid for all this over-priced furniture.

The entire forty five minute drive to their bosses house, Sami went on and on about many topics; the secretary at work that he was planning on sleeping with, the matches they both had over the weekend, and the free booze that Anders was going to have at his company's party. Their boss lived in an uppity neighborhood with houses behind electric gates and expensive cars parked in garages, living a safe life. Since he was a kid, Jon hadn't known a safe life. He grew up in the East end of Cincinnati with a mother who made a living on a street corner and blew all her earnings on drugs, alcohol and cigarettes. He didn't remember his father, the only things he knew about him were whatever his mother told him in a drunken, drugged-out rage.

Sometimes she told him that his father left because he was born. Other times she said he was in prison. There was even a time when she told him that his father was dead. As a kid, Jon didn't know what to believe, but now, he just didn't give a damn. It had been seven years since Jon last saw his mother. At the tender age of seventeen, Jon began training to be a professional wrestler. A month later, he moved out of his mother's crappy apartment and rented his own apartment. It was just as crappy, but somehow, better because he was alone.

When Jon and Sami finally reached Oak Park Terrace, both snorting in amusement, knowing that neither of them fit in in a place called 'terrace', they began looking for the house numbered 316. They found it almost immediately. It was easily the biggest house in the neighborhood, made of red bricks and two stories high. Jon pulled the moving truck up to the gates and, because he didn't know the four digit code that would have allowed them access, he rang the bell. Five minutes and seven bells rung later, a man's voice sounded through the intercom, asking what them what they wanted.

"Look man, we have some furniture for ya…" Jon said, completely ignoring the fact that he was probably talking to his new boss.

"That must be her bedroom furniture." A female voice said, before the black wrought iron gates swung open and Jon drove through, parking conveniently near the front door. When Sami pulled the door up and the ramp out, it went straight across their porch, never touching the ground. The front door opened and a man who had to be Jon and Sami's new boss stood there, dressed in a pair of khaki's and a baby blue polo; Jon supposed this must be his casual clothes. He didn't look impressed as he took in the sight of the cigarette tucked behind Jon's ear or Sami's spiky black hair, but he didn't say anything other than the location of his daughter's bedroom.

Jon was expecting the daughter to be some snot nosed little brat like the kid who glared at he and Sami as they began moving furniture in, but when he brought the dresser up the stairs and opened the door, he realized he was very mistaken. The sight of a perfectly round little ass is what awaited him beyond the door. She had to be a few years younger than him, and she obviously hadn't noticed him come in because she had her back to him. Jon felt his cock harden inside his jeans and he watched her bend down in front of her suitcase before she ran back to the bathroom with her arms full of toiletries and clothes.

"Keep going, jackass!" Sami huffed from behind him. "This fucking thing is heavy!" Jon shook his head and continued inside, putting the dresser don by the closet door. It took five trips to get all the furniture into the bedroom and fifteen minutes to get it all set up. Sami just finished putting the night stand by the bed when the shower turned on and Jon started pushing him out of the room, ignoring his very vocal protests.

Their boss and his family watched as Jon pushed Sami out of the house, muttering that they were done setting up the room. Sami stayed quiet as they put the ramp back into the truck and got into the cab. As soon as Jon pulled the moving truck out of their boss' driveway, Sami looked at him with curious green eyes. "What was that all about?"

Jon shook his head. "I thought Anders' kid was some little princess, but she's not."

Sami raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?" He wondered out loud as Jon began driving to the next customer's house.

Jon just smirked. "It means this company party is going to be interesting."

* * *

"When I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it, Elisabelle!" Her father continued his tirade as he followed her into the kitchen like an angry pitbull. Elle rolled her eyes as she began opening cupboards at random, trying to find a bowl for her cereal.

"What exactly were you doing upstairs?" Her mother asked, looking at her suspiciously over the rim of her coffee cup.

Elle opened the last cupboard in the kitchen and pulled down a porcelain bowl before she sat down at the round kitchen table next to her brother and answered her mother while poring herself a bowl of Cheerios. "I was in the shower."

Her father groaned. "Never mind that, just make sure you don't do anything to embarrass me at the company party on Friday." He poured himself a cup of coffee and took a generous drink. "Now finish your breakfast and go unpack your room."

* * *

 **So... your thoughts?**


	2. Chapter 2

Elle spent the rest of the week unpacking all of her belongings and setting up her room the way she liked it. On Tuesday, her parents took her younger brother to a private prep school a few miles away from their house to register for his senior year; He didn't even start classes until September, but he somehow managed to become one of the most popular kids in school. She was right in assuming that she wouldn't be accepted into this community. A few neighbors dropped by to give her family food that their chefs had made, but also to brag about themselves.

Her brother made friends with the neighborhood kids easily, but anyone who was Elle's age looked down on her because she was not in college, despite how she tried to explain how she was saving money for it. Elle could honestly say it didn't bother her to not fit in with her family or their new friends and neighbors. She didn't spend a lot of time outside of her bedroom unless she was working. On Wednesday, Elle found employment in a small, seedy bar in downtown Philadelphia as a bartender and waitress. Her parents were left very much in the dark about her new job; Elle was positive that working in a seedy little bar would definitely count as embarrassing her father.

Her first day was Friday at five o'clock. Apparently the owner wanted Elle to be trained during a time when the bar was busy, so she would be used to the fast pass environment when she was the only bartender on shift. Although she only worked for three hours, Elle was exhausted by the time the other bartender told her that she could leave. Three hours of mixing drinks, of being jeered at and groped, of standing in four inch high heeled pumps without sitting down once. The pay wasn't the greatest, but she did get a discount on food and beverages and she made a lot of money in tips, despite the fact that she messed up drink orders often; the perks of being a female bartender, she supposed. Until she found a better job, this one would have to do.

As she got onto a bus that would take her close enough to her house so she could walk, Elle decided that the first thing she would save up money for was a car. There was a lot of creepy people of the bus that stared at her and made dirty jokes. When the bus stopped, she got up and off quickly before she began walking briskly in the direction of her new house. Although it was only the end of June, the air in Philadelphia was crisp and cool at night, reminding Elle just how much she missed Georgia. She rubbed her arms to create friction for warmth as goosebumps began appearing across her exposed flesh.

Thankfully, the familiar red brick, two story house quickly came into view. Elle punched in the four digit code for the security system and walked up to the front porch without noticing all the cars parked on the street. However, she did notice all the people standing around, drinking and talking when she opened the front door; her father's company party must have already started. As soon as Elle shut the front door behind her, the talking stopped and all eyes seemed to be on her. At first, she didn't really understand why until her father charged at her from the middle of the small crowd in the living room with her face and ears burning bright red. "Elisabelle Alexandria Anders, what the hell do you think you're wearing?!"

Elle looked down at herself, only just realizing that she was still wearing what was considered a uniform for the female bartenders; a tight black skirt or shorts, a skirt in Elle's case, a crop top with the restaurant's logo emblazoned on the front, and the high heeled pumps. She didn't even get a minute to explain before her father began to scream himself hoarse about her embarrassing him. Elle privately thought that he was making this situation so much worse, if he didn't say anything or react this badly, she could have gone to change upstairs without much people noticing her.

Not that she would have said this out loud, of course. Her mother had enough sense to keep calm as she weaved in and out of the sea of people. "Go upstairs and change your clothes. I've laid out a dress for you." She smiled pleasantly, but her green eyes were practically spitting acid.

Eager to get away from her father and his scary looking angry face, Elle did as her mother instructed and walked up the staircase as slowly as she dared. She didn't want to make her father any angrier than he already was, but she also didn't want to trip in her high heels and give the guests standing in the foyer a view of her yellow lace panties. Elle didn't want to turn around when she got to the top of the stares because she could still feel stares on her back. Some were judging, some were amused and some were… lustful? Against her better judgement, Elle glanced down the stairs and her eyes locked with a guy who was standing in the foyer. Although she had caught him staring, he didn't avert his gaze. Instead, he held her gaze and smirked as he brought a beer bottle to his lips, draining the contents in three large gulps.

He was dressed in a pair of ratty blue jeans, a slightly stained T-shirt that was covered by a leather jacket while his feet were encased in black boots with scuff marks around the toes. There was a cigarette behind his ear and his dirty blonde hair was a mess of curls that partly covered his eyes. For a reason that Elle could not explain, she felt her cheeks heat up under his scrutiny, but she only continued moving from her spot when her father walked around the corner and glared up at her.

As soon as Elle was out of the guests eye range, she took off her shoes and carried them by the backs as she walked up the flight of stairs to her bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind her.

"Well that was awkward." She mumbled to herself as she stripped out of her uniform. She was not thinking about the way she showed up to her father's company party dressed like a girl who worked on a street corner. That was a little awkward, but what she was thinking about was her father in general. Watching him nearly explode with anger because Elle unintentionally acted like she wasn't the perfect daughter they tried to make her felt so good. It was such a rush, like liquid fire flowing through her veins to know that she could get under her parents skin so easily.

Elle's mother and father has been punishing her since she was a child, simply because she didn't want to be the CEO of some international business that practically robbed its employees while she bought her third vacation home in Greece. As she pulled the dress up her thighs and hips, she decided that maybe it was time for her to punish her parents. When Elle returned to the party downstairs, the feeling of awkwardness returned with her as she shared another moment with the blonde haired stranger, if you could even call it a moment.

She had been stared at all night while she was working, eventually she got used to the feeling and learned to ignore it, although the eyes on her were very much unwelcome. And yet, under his watch, she discovered that she didn't mind it as much, which was crazy, she thought as she descended from the second floor. How was this guy who was staring at her with hooded bedroom eyes, any different than the freaks and perverts who were hitting on her at the bar?

 _Those freaks and perverts don't work for my father,_ Elle realized as she reached the last step. She knew her father all too well, she knew who would get his stamp of approval and who wouldn't; this guy was definitely the latter. The gears in her imagination began working overtime as she pictured her father's reaction to her bringing a guy like that home for dinner. The thought alone made her smile.

Elle grinned and winked at the blonde haired stranger as she eased past him and the black haired guy he was now flanked by to get a drink from the kitchen, loving the way her father's right eye twitched in an attempt to hold in his anger. He could try to control her life all he wanted, but she was going to have fun and enjoy her life, she was not going to make it easy for him. And as for the blonde haired stranger… well, she wasn't going to make it easy for him, either.

The rest of the night went by much slower than she had hoped. Elle could still feel her father's anger, but it was also added with the blonde's burning rage as she ignored him for most of the night, save for a few glances and smirks she shot him as she danced and flirted with his black haired friend, whose name she didn't even know. By the time the clock struck midnight, Elle's father has almost completely lost his voice from the sheer volume of his screaming. When her mother went to get to him a glass of whiskey, Elle left the room to go to bed.

* * *

"You said this party was going to be interesting and you were right!" Sami giggled in the front seat of Jon's Impala. His eyes were glazed over and he sat slumped over in his seat. The amount of beers and shots he consumed the entire night were finally starting to take effect. However, he was not too drunk to notice the way Jon's left hand was gripping the steering wheel tightly, while the right hand was fumbling around in search of a lighter.

Sami opened the glove compartment and grabbed the plastic yellow lighter that was inside before he lit Jon's cigarette for him. "What's wrong, Mox?" Sami asked, looking very much like the concerned little brother that Jon thought of him as. Normally Jon appreciated the concern Sami had for him due to the lack of concern his mother had for him as a child, but right now, he was too angry to care.

"Nothing's wrong." Jon said rather harshly as he took a deep drag of his cigarette and blew the inhaled smoke out of his nostrils, looking very much like an angry dragon. He was quiet after that for about five seconds, which Sami counted off on his fingers before Jon suddenly explored loud enough to scare a cat in an alley they were driving by. "How could that bitch just ignore me?!" And suddenly the pieces of the puzzle fell perfectly together as Sami understood what was making Jon so pissed. It was the same reason why Sami found the party so interesting, and it wasn't the free booze. It was Anders' daughter.

"Maybe you got it wrong," Sami tried to reason with him, although he did feel guilty, as her attention was mostly focused on him the entire night. "Maybe she is some little princess who wastes all her daddy's money and dresses like a hooker to get attention. You don't need something like that in your life."

 _No,_ Jon thought privately to himself as he pulled the Chevy Impala into the parking lot of their apartment building. _I don't need it, but I want it._ And Jon Moxley always got what he wanted.

* * *

Elle only remained on her father's bad side for a few weeks after the company party incident. Despite how badly she wanted her family to be punished, that wild energy seemed to frizzle away shortly after. There were only so many way to drive her parents absolutely insane by herself; dressing in clothes her parents hated, smoking cigarettes in the house, she even stole her father's credit card and took the Escalade for a joyride, returning four hours later with a dented front bumper and a brand new wardrobe. Her parents were angry, it was true, but their anger wasn't enough to send them over the top.

Elle knew one thing that would cause her parents to completely freak out, but she didn't see a way to make the situation happen. Her thoughts travelled back to her father's company party and, more specifically, to the blonde haired guy with the black leather jacket. She told herself that she wasn't going to make it easy for him, but she hadn't counted on him not making it easy for her, either. Elle hadn't seen that guy since her father's party, she knew that he was obviously his employee, but that was about it. Her father ran all the stores in the state of Pennsylvania and all employees from different stores attended the party that night, so it didn't really surprise her that she would not see him again.

Asking her father was out of the question, and without that information, Elle's plan dissolved rather rapidly. It seemed like she would just have to continue wrecking luxury SUVs and burning holes in her mother's linens with her cigarettes. With all this misbehavior, the only added thing that Elle could think of to annoy her parents was to continue mentioning the taboo words, "music school" in their presence, and to continue working at the bar.

Since she had started there almost a month ago, Elle had been scheduled to work afternoon shifts, something she was thankful for. The most costumers she got were businessmen who wanted a beer with their lunch. Elle got into an easy, comfortable routine by working during the day. She was able to take a university level English class at night, bringing her one step closer to her future in music school. The routine she established was drastically altered when Elle finished her shift at five o'clock towards the end July. As soon as Brody, a fellow bartender relieved her, Elle went into the back office to see the schedule for the next week, pinned to the cork board.

"Eight o'clock at night?" She asked in disbelief, turning to look at her boss as he sat down at his desk, doing paperwork to order food and alcohol for the next week.

"Is there a problem with that?" Her boss asked rhetorically, not bothering to look up from his work order, as though he did not expect Elle to actually complain.

"I thought I was scheduled for the afternoon shift, not the night shift." Elle said, trying not to look as stressed out as she felt. She knew she had to tread carefully when her boss finally looked up, with his dark, thick eyebrows raised; she stopped talking immediately under his stare.

"The flow of business changes all the time, which means that schedules change all the time. If you don't like it, I strongly suggest that you find another job." He looked back down at his paperwork before adding, "You are replaceable, Elisabelle. Don't think that you aren't."

Of course Elle knew she was replaceable; anyone could be a bartender and a waitress. On the following Saturday Elle showed up to work at eight o'clock, unhappy with the changes in the schedule, but grateful to still have a job that she desperately needed. A fake smile was sent to the bartender whose shift she would be relieving as she tied a small apron around her hips and walked behind the bar. For the next three hours, Elle mixed drinks and brought food to tables; she was in the middle of mixing a Long Island Iced Tea when a particularly loud group of individuals walked into the restaurant.

Elle kept her eyes on the glass in front of her, until the familiar feeling of being watched creeped upon her. She knew that people had been watching her all night long, but this gaze was one she had felt before. Almost instinctively, Elle glanced up and her eyes locked with the blonde haired stranger from her father's company party. He was surrounded by the shorter, dark haired guy that she danced with, as well as the group of rowdy guys.

From beside her, Brody heaved an exasperated sigh and picked up a tumbler to clean it. They both watched as the group settled into one of the large, half circle booths in what was designated Elle's side of the bar. Brody didn't even bother to hide his relief as he openly thanked God that they didn't sit on his side of the restaurant.

Asshole. But as Elle grabbed the notepad from her apron pocket and walked over to the rambunctious group, she thanked God too. She thought that her plan to piss off her father started and ended with her bratty behavior at his party, she had given up on the idea of using this dangerous looking stranger to torment her parents like they had been tormenting her. But as she continued to make her way over to the booth, her confidence grew when she realized his gaze hadn't left her since he walked into the bar with his friends. This didn't mean that he made any sort of attempt to help her as he watched her struggle to politely get the group's attention.

After a few minutes of this being ineffective, her patience reached a breaking point and any form of politeness went out the window as she shouted, "Hey!" and all chatter at the booth instantly ceased. She put on her nicest smile and held her notepad and pen tightly in her hand. "What can I get you guys?"

"We'll take a round of tequila shots, babe." The blonde haired stranger demanded with a smirk. His voice was low, rough and gravelly; it made her insides squirm and tingle. Elle wrote down the round of shots on her notepad as well as the individual beers they ordered, her mind barely comprehending the request as she tried to decide if maybe this guy was still as interested as he seemed at her father's party. As she turned her back to the group as she walked back to the bar, Elle casually dropped her pen, and glanced back out of the corner of her eye as she bent over to pick it up. She expected eyes to be glued to her ass, but she did not expect the wide, open palm swat that landed on her left cheek, nor the squeeze of flesh that followed. She barely bit back the surprised yelp that threatened to escape her parted lips. Well, she definitely knew he was interested. She picked up the pen and, with a grin on her lips and a swing in her hips, Elle sashayed back to the bar and dropped the notepad on the counter as she began pouring tequila into shot glasses and rounding up a different assortment of beers.

* * *

Sami's impossibly green eyes were drawn away from his boss's daughter to see how Jon was reacting to seeing her when she shouted to get their attention. The last time the two were around each other, Jon was very angry and annoyed by the fact that she had flirted with him and then ignored him like he wasn't any better than the dirt beneath her ridiculously high heels. To his surprise however, Jon was smirking as he, along with their other wrestling friends stared at her as she walked away, but not before Jon smacked her ass hard, groping for good measure.

"She's a little spitfire, isn't she?" Nick Cage chuckled as the group watched Elle swing her hips on the way back behind the bar. Every guy at the booth agreed and continued to watch as she worked to get their order put on a serving tray while her coworker just sat back and watched.

Douchbag.

Sami turned his attention back to their group, deciding that it was safe, he said in a slightly teasing voice, "Back off boys, Mox already called dibs."

"Not fair, bro." Drake Younger shook his head. "You can't call dibs until everyone's had a chance to see."

"Trust me, boys," Jon began cockily as he watched their boss's daughter make her way back to their table with a tray of drinks balancing on the flat palm of her hand, "None of you stand a chance with her." Silence fell over their table as she came back and began handing out shots of tequila as well as their beers.

"Can I get you guys anything else? Some pizza or maybe some wings? We have all you can eat wings on Saturday nights."

Jon smirked. "I'll take your fine ass wrapped up to go in my apartment later." While the guys all hollered and wolf-whistled at Jon's remark, Jon paid them no attention. Instead, he studied their boss's daughter. She froze for a second, but if you weren't observing her body language like he was, you probably wouldn't have noticed it. The pink tinge in her ears and cheeks, however, were not as hard to notice.

"Unfortunately, I'm not on the menu tonight." She said coolly.

Jon watched in disbelief as she sauntered away with a small grin. Drake chuckled lowly while their companions chortled loudly. "Looks like you don't stand a chance either, man."


End file.
